


Hush now.

by theunwillingheart



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunwillingheart/pseuds/theunwillingheart
Summary: “If for some reason the Earth needed to be destroyed in a hurry… she’d be the one that the Powers would talk to… She may occasionallybethe Earth’s kernel.”—Mamvish fsh Wimsih fsh Mentaff,A Wizard of MarsA look at Earth’s Planetary.Spoilers for Books 9 and 10.





	Hush now.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’m too much of a rabid fan to ever be mistaken for Diane Duane, the actual author of Young Wizards.

The day she had been eliminated from the Invitational, she had broken away from her mentor and wandered off into a corner to lick her wounds alone.

A man had approached her then.  He looked to be in his forties, with a brown face and weathered hands.  She vaguely recognized him as one of the Seniors for Europe.  She had wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled before turning to face him.

“Come now, my dear,” he had said kindly, “you did splendidly.  This isn’t the end for you, not by a long shot.”

“But I worked so hard,” she had explained, struggling to keep from whining.  “I really thought I would make it.”

“You are and will always be a wizard of extraordinary capabilities,” he had reassured her.  “This decision does not change that.”

“But I want to be great,” she had said.  “I want to do big things in the world, like you.”

The Senior had laughed tiredly at that.

“Be careful what you ask for, my dear,” he had warned her.  “Your words have more power than you know.”

 

The day she became the Planetary for Earth, she was called before the Powers Themselves.

 _You will go forth from Us, to tend to your planet in Our Name_ , They had commanded her, _to serve as proxy and representative in Our stead._

“I willingly accept,” she had responded, shielding her face from Their brilliance.

 _You will perform all duties in accordance with Our mandates, implementing them to the best of your ability and judgement_ , They had said.

“I willingly accept,” she had replied once more.

 _And if the planet Earth is placed under Final Sanction_ , They had continued, _you will perform the Last Duties of your station._

A tremor had gone through her at that, but she had not hesitated.

“I will consign myself to the Last Duties, if commanded to do so.”

 _Go_ , They had said then, _and thrive in your calling.  It is Our pleasure to make this appointment._

The next thing she remembers is standing on the ground while also _being_ it—being the ground, and the air, and the sea.

 

The baby is crying.  It isn’t her fault.  It’s normal for babies to cry, sometimes.

She checks his diaper and pats his back and wraps him in strong, wiry arms.  Bouncing him gently, she soothes him to sleep.

“ _Shhh,_ ” she whispers, “ _Shhh…_ ”

 

Once, during an intervention in the Antarctic, a teenaged wizard had looked at her baby with concern.

“Is it safe for him to be here?” he had asked her.

Irina had raised her eyebrows at him and smiled.

“I am the heart of the world,” she had said.  “He is my son.  There is nothing even remotely safe about either of us.”

The boy had stepped back hurriedly, looking embarrassed and fearful.  “Of course, ma’am,” he had said.  “Of course.”

Irina had laughed.  She had reached out to take his hand in hers and given it a reassuring squeeze.

“Come now,” she had said.  “No need for that.  I haven’t been ordered to do anything alarming just yet.”

 

There are hurricanes in the Atlantic.  Active volcanoes in the Pacific.  Always earthquakes rumble along the Earth’s crust, tectonic plates shifting and screaming.

Irina tosses and turns in her sleep.

“ _Shhh,_ ” she whispers, “ _Shhh…_ ”  

 

She and the baby go for walks sometimes, on mountain ranges and desert plains, through shaded forests and deep canyons.

 _So good_ , she thinks.  _All of this is so, so good, even now._

People smile at her, from grimy windows and open fields, from street corners and church steps.  Her parakeet sings back at them, delighted.

Nothing is perfect.  But still.

 _So good,_ she thinks, _even now._  

 

 _Be mindful of your duties_ , They remind her.  _Be mindful of the End._

Inside her swirl all of the stories of her people, big and small.  She is all myths and legends.  One comes to the fore, now, the Flood and the Ark.

“Would I be allowed to plead on their behalf?” she asks, watching the waters and looking for the rainbow.

A rush of warmth and calm.  _Yes.  We expect and ask that you will.  You are an advocate as well, little one._

She closes her eyes.  “I would be spared this,” she says fervently.  “Please, I beg that You will spare me this.”

 _We will call for nothing without reason_ , They assure her.

Another myth, a piece of future history reflected endlessly in the mirrors of the universe: a boy strapped down to firewood, his father poised above him, holding a knife.

“And if You do call for it, and I obey Your command to destroy my world,” she murmurs, “won’t You stay _my_ hand as well?”

This time, there is no answer.

Tears spring to her eyes.

“I willingly accept,” she says.

 

Someone is walking alongside her on the path— a tall, elegant-looking man. 

Her baby begins to scream, and her parakeet starts to tweet loudly in an angry, shrill voice.

Its fair and handsome face turns toward her.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to,” It tells her soothingly.  “Don’t do anything you don’t like.  Use your power as you see fit-”

She dismisses It with a flick of her wrist.

“Quiet,” she commands It.  “I have already agreed.  A wizard does not go back on her word.”

 

A nightmare she has had on and off for many nights, since her appointment: she stands in the desert alone, stony faced and resolved.

All of the matter around her is humming with her power.  She can hear billions of creatures crying out in dismay from land and air and sea.

“ _Shhh_ ,” she whispers, closing her eyes.  “Hush now.”

**Author's Note:**

> You guys have no idea how pumped I was to meet Irina. I’d been curious about her since Tom dropped her name off-handedly in Book 3 (after which no one mentioned her again for five whole books!). When she was finally introduced in A Wizard of Mars, I did a happy dance and screamed a little—she was everything I could have wanted and more!
> 
> And then Mamvish mentioned that thing about destroying the Earth, and I got really scared. And then I had to write this!


End file.
